


Never a Lost Cause

by Just_Another_Day



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Doubt, Drug Addiction, Families of Choice, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Jealousy, References to Drugs, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 17:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18057095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Day/pseuds/Just_Another_Day
Summary: Laurent may not be able to stop Nicaise from making his own choices, but that doesn't mean he won't keep doing whatever he can to help save Nicaise from himself.





	Never a Lost Cause

**Author's Note:**

> I have all these random snippets of stories that I know are probably never going to be made into whatever longer thing I was initially envisioning, so I think I'm going to try and clean them up and post whatever I have if it's enough to tell some kind of story as-is. This is the first of those. Take note: warnings are in the tags.

It was the third time that Laurent had done this in as many weeks. He hoped it would be the last, but he wouldn't go so far as to wager on it. Nicaise was about as stubborn as they came, after all, and dependency wasn't exactly an easy thing to break. If Nicaise really wanted to keep this up, there wasn't much Laurent could ultimately do to stop him; trying to take away his choices entirely would just end up doing both Nicaise and Laurent's relationship with him more harm than good. Laurent knew that much from personal experience.

But he had to do _something_.

Laurent made out muffled words that sounded vaguely like, "Piss off," coming from the barely-human lump curled around itself on the stained mattress at his feet. The sight laid out in front of him made Laurent's lip curl for a moment before he caught himself and schooled his face into blankness. He already knew from experience that Nicaise would think that Laurent's disgust was aimed at _him_ rather than at the situation, and at the people who'd not just allowed but encouraged Nicaise to end up in this position. 

"I thought you'd have figured out by now," Laurent said, "that I'm not interested in driving all the way here only to turn back around and leave without you. I didn't exactly come to this place for my health. And apparently neither did you, by the looks of things."

"Didn't come here to have you nag at me either," Nicaise mumbled.

"No? And yet here I am anyway. I'm told I'm irritating that way."

Nicaise rolled his eyes, though he didn't do so directly _at_ Laurent, for that would have required him to actually make eye contact. Those eyes had once appeared so sharp and bright, almost like mirrors of Laurent's own. They would again, if Laurent got his way. But for now, Laurent thought they looked out of focus and borderline lifeless. The skin around them appeared darkened to the point of being bruised. Laurent couldn't tell if it was some inevitable result of the addiction or due specifically to rough treatment. Probably both, Laurent thought, knowing too well the kind of men Nicaise would have 'entertained' if his drug money had run low.

"But I don't want to have to keep fishing you out of any more cesspools disguised as drug dens," Laurent said. 

"Who even asked you to come?" Nicaise slurred.

"Why do you think I should need to be asked?" 

Laurent hauled Nicaise to his feet. It didn't take much effort, really, as thin as Nicaise's body had grown recently. Nicaise tried to shove Laurent away from him, but he was weak enough that he only succeeded in slumping further into Laurent's arms.

No one bothered to try to stop Laurent as he pulled Nicaise towards the front door. The murderous look he shot at anyone who was sober enough to even look in their direction must have been a sufficient deterrent. Or otherwise they assumed that letting him leave now would just mean that Nicaise would end up right back here (or at whatever new hole in the earth they found once Laurent reported this one) with another wad of cash stolen from Laurent to exchange for more drugs.

"Why do you keep bothering me like this?" Nicaise asked once they were outside, sounding a little more coherent and properly awake now that he was upright and moving and with infinitely fresher air now entering his lungs. "I'm not a replacement for your brother, you know, so you can just stop pretending." 

The words stabbed Laurent's chest. He carefully didn't show it on his face. "Of course you're not. You're nothing like Auguste."

Nicaise was far more like Laurent himself. Perhaps a little too much so. Laurent might not have ever ended up in these specific circumstances, but in retrospect he couldn't say that his own methods of coping had been significantly healthier.

"Then why pull yourself away from your new rich punter at the asscrack of dawn to come get me, if I'm nothing to you?"

Laurent could have risen to the bait and defended Damen, or even himself, against the allegation that Damen was his client. He could have reminded Nicaise that whatever else Laurent had ever done (and there had been a lot of things, many of them questionable), he'd never actually sold his body, and he certainly wasn't about to start now. But that would have just come across as Laurent judging Nicaise for having done exactly that himself, sometimes even by choice (as far as these things went). And Laurent wasn't going to play Nicaise's game like that either way. Other than maybe Laurent just leaving him alone (which wasn't going to happen), Nicaise would probably have liked nothing more than to put Laurent on the defensive, so that they ended up focused on something other than Nicaise's own less-than-optimal condition. Laurent was in no mood to oblige him, or to be distracted in general.

Instead, he said, "I didn't say you were nothing to me. And I'm never too busy for you. That hasn't changed just because I met Damen."

Nicaise snorted indelicately, his incredulity obvious. 

It was the truth, though. Even with his mind chemically dulled, Nicaise wasn't unobservant enough not to have noticed that this wasn't the first time Laurent had dropped everything to try to help him, even when doing so had hurt Laurent in turn. Laurent thought the problem was more that Nicaise couldn't understand _why_ Laurent continued to do so. Or that he didn't want to admit that he _did_ understand.

Nicaise liked to pretend that had their roles been reversed he wouldn't have been bothered to do the same for Laurent. Laurent knew better. 

"Do I need to take you to get tested again?" Laurent asked once he'd pushed Nicaise into the backseat of his car and dragged the seatbelt into place around him.

"No. You didn't need to last time, either. I'm not an idiot."

No, he wasn't. But whether he was being self-destructive on purpose was a very different matter. And who knew whether Nicaise had even had the wherewithal to remember half of what he'd done while he was high.

This wasn't the time to force the issue, though.

"We'll go straight home and get you some breakfast, then."

Laurent knew that Nicaise would probably end up being too sick to hold anything down once the withdrawal symptoms hit, so Laurent was desperate to get some real food into him before then. Laurent wondered when Nicaise had last eaten anything at all. He looked so thin. So fragile. Worse even than when Laurent had found him tucked away in Uncle's house days after the man had… 'mysteriously disappeared'.

"It's not my home," Nicaise said flatly. 

"Funny, I have legal documents that say otherwise."

"I'm nearly eighteen. Those papers won't be worth shit in a few months."

Yes, Laurent had suspected that was part of what had been driving Nicaise's behaviour recently. Laurent had told him it didn't matter – that Laurent wasn't going to kick him out and never see him again just because he had a birthday – but obviously it needed to be said again. "It will still be your home even then, as long as you want it to be."

There was a long minute of silence as Laurent slid himself into the driver's seat of the car. Laurent thought Nicaise might even have given into his obvious exhaustion and fallen asleep, but then he proved otherwise by eventually asking, "Is _he_ there? I bet he's practically moved in by now."

Damen had, in fact, spent more nights than not at Laurent's place recently. But: "He doesn't have to be, if it bothers you. I can call him and ask him to be gone by the time we arrive."

"You're not going to break up with him just because I said to," Nicaise scoffed. "You're way too hung up on him for that."

Laurent wasn't going to do that, no. He might have considered it, with a different man. Nicaise meant more to Laurent than some transitory fling would have. But Laurent didn't do flings. A different man wouldn't have been in Laurent's bed waiting for Laurent to return home with a troubled teenager in tow in the first place. Damen was the exception to all of the rules Laurent had put in place years before he'd even met Nicaise, and Laurent couldn't imagine giving him up for anything. They could, however, at least try to be a little more discreet about it if that would help. So all Laurent said was, "It's your house too. You're allowed a say in who stays there. We can discuss it."

"No need. Fuck whoever you like. I don't care," Nicaise said, even though it was obvious that he did. 

Laurent sighed. He opted to text Damen to ask him to go back to his own place for a day or two anyway before starting the car. Nicaise probably wouldn't believe that Laurent was willing to put Nicaise's comfort over the fact that Laurent himself obviously wanted Damen there unless Laurent actually demonstrated it in practice. Just like Nicaise hadn't seemed to believe that Laurent would keep going to the trouble of coming to look for him, and now Laurent had shown him otherwise.

It would be nice if those types of reassurances could be enough to ease Nicaise's worries and his pain, and to make him stop looking to the drugs to do that instead. Laurent doubted it was going to be that simple. But maybe it could make some small difference.

And even if it didn't, Laurent would keep trying all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> So how, you may be thinking, did a 20-something single man manage to foster or adopt a teenage boy who isn't blood-related to him? Bribery and manipulation, presumably. This is Laurent we're talking about here. Please suspend your disbelief.


End file.
